For a few months before my move to North Dakota, I had been thinking about buying a pickup. I was looking for something nice enough to replace my Lincoln LS and become my new daily driver. With the unknowns of moving to a new state and the cost of furnishing a new residence, I waited until after I moved. Within my first week in Grand Forks, I found a 1987 Ford F150 listed for only $600. It looked like it would be a solid beater truck, I would still keep my Lincoln but have the Ford when I needed to haul something.
I went to take her for a test drive. She looked surprisingly good for a 30-year-old pickup, only 130,000 miles. The interior was in great condition with a leather-wrapped steering wheel and red upholstery, carpet, and dash. What more could you ask for?
I asked the owner if there were any issues? “The fuel gauge doesn’t work, but there are 2 tanks so you don’t have to worry, the radio doesn’t work, and she has a bad catalytic converter so sometimes she dies.” “But if you let her sit for a while she starts right back up.” I talked him down a little bit and figured I could repair the cat and still get a decent deal on an old pickup. I bought the pickup, named her Dolores, and took her to a mechanic to fix her up.
“What do you need?” he asked. “I just bought her and the old owner said the catalytic converter is bad. If you notice anything else while you are doing that let me know.” The mechanic called me later that day, “We tested her and the cat is fine.” “Did you notice anything else?” I asked. “Anything that would make her die and be fine after waiting a while?” They didn’t have any answers.
I decided Dolores would be my daily driver for a while so I could see if I could find the issue. I also became a member of AAA, just in case.
She performed flawlessly around town. I was thinking of taking her on a trip to the cities. I need to get the last of my things I had forgotten at my old place and to stop at IKEA for some stuff for my new place.
I was still a little nervous that I hadn’t experienced the issue her former owner had. Maybe Dolores just liked me more than him.
A friend invited me to hang out in Fargo. I figured this would be the perfect test. If she can make it to Fargo and back she can make it to Minneapolis and back… Right?
Dolores made the trip down to Fargo just fine. With the radio out of commission, I had brought a small bluetooth speaker and played music on my phone. It was plenty loud and worked great. We went on a few different adventures around town all without incident. I left Fargo around 10 pm and headed home feeling pretty confident in Dolores’ abilities and the deal that I got. This is when the few fatal flaws in my plan started to reveal themselves.
In my Lincoln, I had hardwired in a wireless phone charger so I didn’t have a regular car charger that I could just grab and use. I had ordered a charger online that was supposed to be delivered that day but it got delayed and wouldn’t arrive until the next day. When I went to start music on my phone for the drive home I saw that there was under 5% battery left on my phone. Welp… no music for me on this drive. I need to save those last few percent just in case.
Everything was going great until mile marker 126, 14 miles out of Grand Forks. All of a sudden Dolores loses power and I just sort of coast to the side of the interstate. I tried to start her back up and nothing happened. I check my phone; it has also lost all power. No big deal I thought. I just need to let Dolores sit for “a while” and she will start right back up.
I’m not sure how long “a while” is supposed to be and with my phone and the truck radio not working I don’t have any idea what time it is or how long of a while I have waited. Luckily for me, it was a beautiful summer night. The night before had been the full moon, so it was still nice and bright. There were just a couple of clouds in a mostly clear sky, just enough to make it picturesque. I laid in the back of the truck and watched the sky.
After a while, I got back in the driver seat and tried again. Dolores started right up. Just like her previous owner had said. Crisis averted. I started back on my way home. The drive was shorter than I expected, just a little way down the road she lost power again. I made my way back to the side of the coasting just past mile marker 127.
“Ok.” I thought to myself, “We sat for a little while. We just need to sit for a longer while. No problem.” “Other than the fact that I don’t know how long the first while I waited was, how much of a longer while Dolores wants, or even what time it is.”
I went back to the bed of the truck for another episode of stargazing. With such low light pollution, the middle of the North Dakota plains is the perfect place for an evening under the stars. I truly recommend it. (You just might want to do it with a working vehicle.)
After a longer while I tried to wake Dolores up. Nothing. I had absolutely no idea what time it was now, but I knew it was time to start the 13-mile walk.
I was not afraid of the two clouds in the sky, but for the sake of visibility I grabbed my bright orange rain jacket from the cab and started out along the side of the road. The heat of the day was gone, the cool summer night was a comfortable temperature for a brisk nighttime walk.
The first mile really was pretty enjoyable. As I walked along the road, I was still spending a lot of the time looking up at the stars. Whenever I heard a vehicle approaching I turned around and stuck out my thumb, hoping for a good Samaritan. I was wearing shoes that could at best be described as office casual loafers, definitely not something you would pick for a long trek. After the first few miles, I knew I was going to end up with some blisters from this journey.
Three miles into my walk I reached the exit for Thompson, ND and I had to make a choice. Do I keep heading the 10 miles towards home or turn and head 1 mile towards the small town (population 1,010) of Thompson? 1 mile is certainly less walking than 10. But would anything at all be open at whatever time of night it is? I decided probably not and kept walking towards home.
Further down the interstate, I started wondering about the odds of someone stopping for me. I still had no idea what time it was but it was late at night and there wasn’t much traffic. My odds had to be getting lower. If you see a broken down truck and then immediately see a person walking along the side of the road it’s pretty safe to assume what happened. The longer it has been since you have seen a disabled vehicle the easier it is to jump to them being a murderous serial-killer hitchhiker. I am not sure where the tipping point for that is but I am pretty sure it is less than the 4 miles I have already walked.
The already low number of cars and semi trucks passing me had been dwindling as it got later. I kept turning hopefully for each one. Thumbing for a ride, feeling the rush of wind as they blow past me, the next few seconds still hoping they just saw me and will still stop, the crushing defeat when they don’t.
After walking a little over 5 miles my persistence paid off. I had turned around with my thumb out for an approaching semi. It seemed like it might be slowing down, but I still got hit with a wall of air as it passed me. It was slowing down. It stopped about 100 yards past me. Scared that if I made them wait they might drive off I started jogging up to meet my rescuer.
The lady semi-driver hopped out of the cab and the first thing she said to me was “You scared the shit out of me… I thought you were a bear.”
“Then I wondered ‘Why would a bear be wearing an orange jacket?’”
I thanked her for stopping, told her of my car troubles and asked if she could give me ride the last 8 miles into town. She said she could and we both climbed in. She asked where exactly I was headed and punched my address into her GPS. “That's pretty far out of my way, I don’t think I can make that work,” she said. “I don’t need a ride all the way, you could even just drop me off on the exit ramp, whatever works for you.” I pleaded back hoping to not lose my ride. “Even if I drop you at an exit it’s still 3 hours out of my way.” “What?... no… It’s straight ahead on the interstate.” I said thinking “There is no way it's not on your way.” as I leaned over to look at her GPS. She had selected Grand Rapids, MN instead of Grand Forks, ND. She fixed the error and was much more accepting of this new route. She even drove through the residential streets right to my front door.
I got home at 4:30 in the morning. I soaked my feet for a bit while I charged my phone. Then I called AAA, put on some flip-flops, and hopped in my Lincoln to go out and meet them. It took a while for them to make it to the truck but we got her loaded up and brought Dolores into a mechanic. I went home, took a quick shower and headed into work.
Editor’s Note: I had been wearing a step tracker so I was able to look back at the rough timeline of the night. My first while was from about 11:15PM to 12:30AM. My longer while was from 12:30AM to 2:45AM.
